Man's Best Friend
by mako-lies
Summary: Shinjiro lets Koromaru in where nobody else is allowed. Really, somebody should find a way to make suppressants less awful. Or, at least, less deadly. Contains canonical drug use.


Shinjiro breathes out his nose, clenches his fists so his knuckles are white. Attacks are more frequent now, and he's having a hard time hiding it from Akihiko. His pulse pounds in his throat and for a horrible second, he's positive that he's going to puke up last night's dinner.

He leans his head against the alley wall, shutting his eyes as the whole world spins around him, shivering with chill even though it's summer and he's wearing the thick, oversized coat he'd bought with Kirijo money before… Shinjiro bares his teeth rather than remember Mitsuru and her constant concern, the way she'd always wanted to make sure her two orphan boys were _cared_ for.

Pain lances through him, his stomach clawing at him, and he might really be sick—just a bit longer, Aragaki, then it'll be over. Shinjiro brings his hand up, bites into his forearm hard as he can, to keep from crying out, the last thing he needs is anyone to find him, because he's got a reputation out here as one tough son of a bitch and he can't afford to lose it.

Honestly, he's not sure how long he sits there, biting himself raw. At some point, tears spill over (hell, how could he even have any of those damn things left?) and there's not a thing he can do about it, because his control over himself has always been shit, and that's why he's here, isn't it?

That's when something hot and wet slides across his ankle, where his pant leg's ridden up. His eyes snap open and there's—a little white dog, lapping at his skin.

"Hey! Scram!" he snaps, trying to pull his leg out of reach.

The damn dog barks and barks and barks; Shinjiro groans, throws an arm over his eyes. "Fuck off, dog!" he says, voice more breathy than he means it to be.

"Koromaru?" a soft voice calls, "Koromaru!" He moves his arm away to look at whoever has shown up.

An old monk moves into view, but stops as he sees Shinjiro. "I—apologize. Koromaru can be… ah… energetic," he stops, then crouches so he's at eye level, "Are you all right?"

"Just get your dog," Shinjiro growls, chest heaving.

The dog—Koromaru?—barks, then licks the sole of Shinjiro's shoe. He looks at the monk, then barks again. Shinjiro shuts his eyes and throws his arm back over his eyes. "Looks like he's taken a shine to you," the monk says and then there's a cool hand on his forehead. "You're not running a fever… Do you have medicine?"

"…Whatever. Just—don't you have something better to do?" he snarls, trying to pull away from the hand.

The monk stands in a rustle of cloth, but he doesn't walk away and the dog—Koromaru—comes up and starts licking at his raw forearm. Shinjiro winces, but doesn't move. "Something better to do than helping someone? Not at all."

"I don't need your help!" and he leaps to his feet, world tilting and he balances himself against the wall, glaring up at the guy. "Just—just go! Okay? I don't need your charity! I'm fine by myself!"

With a sigh, the man reaches out and steadies him with a hand on Shinjiro's shoulder. "Easy. Koromaru likes you and that's enough for me. At least let me take you out for lunch. No strings attached. After that, we go our separate ways. Sound fair?"

He takes a deep breath. Come to think on it, he is a little hungry and the pain's a little less, even if he still feels all wobbly. Well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever. "Okay, fine," he says, jutting his chin out, "But just this once. I'm not in the habit of owing anybody anything."

Shinjiro clenches his fists, trying to get Akihiko and Mitsuru's faces out of his damn head. It's hard enough being out here without thinking about them all the goddamn time. At least the guy doesn't ask what he wants, just leads him to the nearest food joint—Wild-Duck Burger—and orders them both fries and burgers, and the monk doesn't even watch as Shinjiro eats, just calmly focuses on his own burger, occasionally sneaking a french fry to Koromaru.

When he finishes his food, Shinjiro stands to leave. True to his word, the monk doesn't stop him or anything, just says, "I'm an the Naganaki shrine, if you ever need me."

Shinjiro nods and walks out the door without even saying thanks. But, he'd be lying if it's not nice to know there's somewhere he can get help that isn't attached to Akihiko or Mitsuru, that isn't attached to SEES or Persona. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

* * *

Shinjiro finds that he enjoys cooking dog treats. For whatever reason, Koromaru likes the chicken ones best, so Shinjiro finds himself making those pretty regularly. The others are all out of the dorm, even Ken and Aigis, doing who knows what. It's nice, though, to have some time to himself. Koromaru sits patiently in the doorway of the kitchen, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out. "Excited, huh?" Shinjiro asks, grinning as he looks over from where he's beating the dough in a bowl.

Yipping, Koromaru pads further into the kitchen, watching Shinjiro work with extreme focus. It's simple with the dog. Koromaru doesn't watch him constantly, like Akihiko and Mitsuru do—glancing at him in worry when they think he's not looking, constantly needing to know where he is, like they're worried he's gonna _run off_ again or whatever. Shinjiro sighs, shutting the oven door, then glancing down at Koromaru. "Looks like we got a thing about lunch," he says, "Wish people went out more. Nice to have some time to ourselves, without everybody prying and worrying and shit."

With a bark, the dog pads over. He noses Shinjiro's calf and Shinjiro grins, sheepish. "You don't complicate everything, like the others." It's weird, but he almost feels happy, just him and Koromaru.

He shrugs as he sets the timer. Too much to think about, too complicated. He likes the dog—that's simple enough, no point in thinking about it too hard. Maybe there's more he wants to say, because in a lot of ways, Koromaru understands him better than anybody else. After all, Koromaru's the one who knows about Shinjiro's attacks, the way his hands shake and his teeth chatter, the rattling wet cough lodged in chest. Sometimes, Shinjiro can't help but wonder how long he'll be able to keep all of it secret. If he were to bet, his guess would be that Minato finds it out, first. Kid just seems to understand things, taking the whole world in with his ash-colored eyes.

But today's a good day. No attacks, nobody in the dorm to bother him. Shinjiro looks down at Koromaru. "C'mon. We'll watch some TV while we wait. How's that show you've been watching, The True Battles of Real Men, sound?"

Koromaru is out of the kitchen faster than Shinjiro can blink and he finds himself barking out a laugh as he follows. As he turns the TV on, Koromaru settles on his haunches, staring at the screen intently. They stay that way till the timer dings. Shinjiro isn't enough of a jerk to ruin the dog's damn show by yapping, even if it's one of the dumbest things he's ever seen. He goes back into the kitchen and pulls out the treats, only to to find Koromaru sitting at his feet.

He yips, looking up at him, tail wagging expectantly. Apparently, the only thing the dog likes more than his damn show is food, not that Shinjiro blames him. Food's pretty damn great. Shinjiro puts a few treats on a plate. The two of them head back to the living room, where he sets the plate down on the floor and they just go back to watching the stupid show. They stay like that awhile, before Shinjiro asks, "Hey, Koromaru?" he pauses to swallow, "If something happens to me, would you look after Ken?"

Koromaru yips, then laps at Shinjiro's ankle and there's a sudden lump in his throat, because it's just like the first time they met and he feels—Shinjiro swallows, because it almost feels like it'll all be okay. "Your owner was a hellova guy. I'm sorry he's gone," he says, suddenly.

The dog just licks his ankle again and eats his treats. Dog's cool like that. Doesn't complicate things. Shinjiro stretches out on the chair and watches the dog's dumb show.

* * *

Minato enters the room to Akihiko fidgeting. His fingers tap erratically against his thigh, and his eyes keep darting between Mitsuru and the door. "It's almost curfew," he says, "He should be back already."

It almost makes Minato smile, because Akihiko is completely transparent when it comes to Shinjiro. Mitsuru leans back into her seat, arms folded over her chest. "I'm worried as well," she answers, "But we don't know where he is, or even where to start looking. We don't want to be caught outside the dorm at the Dark Hour if we can help it."

"We can't sit and do nothing! I'll just go—it'll be fine," Akihiko moves to stand.

Minato steps into their view then, hands in his pockets. "I don't think we should worry."

Both of them look at him, Mitsuru's eyebrows arched and Akihiko leaning forward. Minato shrugs at the scrutiny. "Koromaru went too. They'll look out for each other."

Mitsuru glances at Akihiko, who sighs heavily, but nods. "Thanks," he says after a moment. "That makes me feel better, I guess."

With a sigh, Mitsuru pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes closing. "We should trust him more than we do. Since returning, he has shown no inclination to leave again."

Akihiko curls his fingers into fists, slowly, the gesture familiar, looking down at his knees. A muscle in his cheek jumps, before he just nods at Mitsuru.

Minato smiles as Mitsuru hesitantly reaches out and pats Akihiko's shoulder. He leaves them as Mitsuru says something quietly.

* * *

Shinjiro leans his head back against the slide, stretched out along the bottom of the thing. His breath escapes in ragged pants and he looks up at the black sky—wonders what time it is.

He scrunches his eyes shut as nausea makes the world spin, his stomach stuck painfully in his throat. Damn this sucks. Before today, he hadn't had an attack in over two weeks, but now he's shivering in the crisp autumn wind. Hopefully, nobody'll come searching. It would be just his luck, though. He sucks in a deep breath, and feels something warm and wet on his ankle.

Koromaru yips at him, licks him again. " 'M okay," he says, "Don't—don't get Aki…"

The dog barks again, and Shinjiro leans back, shutting his eyes. "…If I fall asleep, wake me up so we can get back before the Dark Hour hits, all right?"

As Koromaru woofs, Shinjiro can't help but smile, even as his stomach churns and flips. It's not a warm, fluttering feeling brought on by Koromaru, that's for sure. Shinjiro grimaces as shudders wrack through him and he finds his mind wandering—he remembers the orphanage, and his first night at the dorm, remembers the monk who'd bought him lunch—and he wonders, blankly, if death is getting closer, what with him remembering all this shit.

Funny—he's seen people die before, but never from pills. Well, maybe it's his shit control that's killing him, which is sort of fitting in a way.

He comes to again with Koromaru licking his face. Shinjiro reaches up, realizes his face is totally soaked—Koromaru must've been licking him awhile. "We should get back," he grunts, lurching up.

Shinjiro takes a few tentative steps. He's a little shaky, but he feels better than earlier. Koromaru follows at his heels, and it feels good to go back to the dorm, with the kids, and Ken, and Ikutsuki, and Mitsuru, and Aki.

Like he knows somehow, Koromaru yips behind him. If Shinjiro didn't think it would make him break out into a coughing fit, he'd laugh.

It's weird, but he almost likes letting Koromaru look after him.


End file.
